If You Want to Live
by reachfortheschuyler
Summary: "Love is not weakness, until it's used against you." Regina becomes the target of one of Robin's old enemies, and it's a race against time to see who can save the other first. M for violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

Part 1 of a 3 part story written for OQ August Angst Fest. This chapter uses two prompts- 20 (Stabbing, shooting, kidnapping) and 25 (Are you even listening to me?)

TW for minor violence and blood in this chapter, but be warned there will be much more violence in the next two chapters.

* * *

Love is weakness. Love is weakness. Love is weakness.

It was a mantra that spilled from Mother's lips from the moment Regina could understand words.

 _Love is weakness. Don't be weak, you foolish girl. You are going to be queen one day. Queens cannot be weak._

If love is weakness, does that mean hate is strength? Is anger more empowering than the wholeness that stems from a gentle touch or a soft kiss?

For years, she thought so.

After hearts were pummelled to dust on day-old hay in a weather-worn stable, yes, she thought love was weakness. After her wedding night, and so many painful nights after, when choice was taken and duty imposed, yes, she thought love was weakness. After a curse was cast and a crushed heart left a gaping hole in hers, yes, she thought love was weakness. After the sole light in her life was dimmed by the words "adoption" and "biology," after a "real" mom was dragged into her world and turned it on its axis, yes, she thought love was weakness. After a line was crossed and gentle fingers slipped from her grasp for the last time, yes, she thought love was weakness.

Love is weakness. Love is weakness. Love is weakness.

But love can be good. And love can be pure. And love can be a saving grace in a world threatening to collapse on itself.

Memories restored. A mother's love. A kiss to the forehead.

Only true love can break a curse, and breaking things requires strength.

Love is strength. Love is better. There is no room for anger when love sits at the table. And maybe Mother was wrong. Mother _has_ to be wrong. No one with love so pure can be weak. Love hard won from a son destined to be hers. Love which once seemed impossible from a stepdaughter long returned to her. Love lost and found, and lost and found again, from a soulmate stitched to her heart at the seams.

Love is good.

Love is pure.

Love is strength.

It is not weakness.

Until it's used against you.

* * *

Robin's arm is warm around Regina's waist as they walk into the Rabbit Hole. It's busy, unsurprising for a Friday, and they have to worm and weave their way through the crowd to reach the bar and the man tending to it. Robin pulls Regina in front of him, wrapping an arm around her hips as she leans on the bar and orders drinks for both of them.

"I don't see Will anywhere," she says, hair snagging a bit in Robin's beard as she looks from side to side.

"He's either late or drunk under a table already," Robin replies, dropping a kiss to her bare shoulder. He owes the designer of her tight little strapless number a million gratitudes for crafting a dress that allows him to peruse and touch and revel in all the skin Regina has deigned to show off tonight.

"Wouldn't be surprised at either," Regina snorts as the bartender hands her their drinks.

"I'm surprised he agreed to come out with us. He's been so mopey lately," Robin comments, taking his whiskey from her.

"He said he wants to try to- I believe his exact words were- 'start chasing tail again,'" Regina says with an eye roll, sipping wine the same color as her lipstick. She spins around so she's facing him, resting her back against the bar. "Guess he's finally ready to bounce back from Belle."

Robin nods and leans in close, his mouth just by her ear. "Did I tell you how stunning you look tonight?"

A coy smile curls across her lips as she runs a finger down the middle of his shirt. "You may have mentioned it," she purrs. "I had a bit of a time getting dressed, though."

"Did you now?" Robin murmurs, brushing his lips over the apple of her cheek.

"Mmhmm," Regina hums, moving a hand up to card through his hair. "Because this dress is awfully tight, you know. And I just couldn't find any underwear to wear that didn't show."

Robin swallows as heat surges through his veins. "You mean, you're not-"

"Wearing any?" Regina finishes, raising an eyebrow. She tilts her head until her lips ghost against the shell of his ear. "Nope," she breathes.

Robin groans and drops his forehead to her shoulder, hand squeezing her hip and feeling the smoothness of her bare skin beneath the fabric of her dress. "You shouldn't have told me that," he rasps against her neck. "Because now all I'm going to be thinking about is taking you right here on this bar in front of everyone."

Regina inhales sharply, grip tightening in his hair. "If Will doesn't show in the next five minutes, we're going home and you're going to fuck me until I-"

"Excuse me!"

Leroy's gruff voice pops their bubble, startling Regina enough that she jumps slightly, sloshing a few drops of wine onto Robin's light blue button down.

"Last time I checked, this wasn't a brothel," Leroy grumbles, snatching his beer from the bartender with a scowl.

Regina shoots him a glare, but he stalks away before she can properly berate him for interrupting them. She looks at Robin's shirt and frowns. "Sorry," she sighs, setting her wine glass down behind her and reaching for a napkin from farther down the bar. The stretch of her arm hikes her dress up a bit higher on the one side and Robin forces his eyes heavenward to tamp down his ever-growing arousal.

"It's alright," he dismisses, letting her dab at the stain regardless.

"No, it's not, you love this shirt," Regina says, turning her glare on the pink blotches as if she can frighten them into disappearance.

"I think you mean _you_ love this shirt," Robin corrects with a smirk, remembering several times this very garment has ended up on the floor in a crumpled heap thanks to Regina's wandering hands.

She hums smugly, abandoning the napkin on the bartop and hooking a finger between the gap of two buttons. "You're right. I do love this shirt. So why don't you go to the bathroom and try to save it so I can rip it off you later?"

Can't really argue with that plan, so Robin steals a quick kiss from her lips and heads off to the bathroom to do just that.

Regina watches him as he goes, enjoying an eyeful of his ass in dark wash jeans. She glances at the clock on the wall and squeezes her thighs together. Honestly, if Will doesn't show by the time Robin gets back from the restroom, she is transporting them home and riding him until the sun rises. The kids are, thankfully, with other keepers for the night and she has every intent to capitalize on their alone time. Maybe they'll make a game of it- how many rooms in the house can they have sex in before they pass out? Yes, that sounds like an excellent use of a Saturday n-

"Do my eyes deceive me, or is our lovely queen alone at the bar tonight?"

Regina's insides curl with disgust at the sound of Keith Nottingham's slimey voice and the smell of his sickeningly sweet cologne as he sidles up beside her, taking Robin's vacated spot.

"What do you want, Keith?" she asks flatly, not even bothering to turn her head to look at him.

"Well, I'd like to buy you a drink, but since you already have one, I'll settle for a dance," Nottingham purrs, leaning in close, invading her personal space.

Regina glances at him out of the corner of her eye, unimpressed. "There isn't a dancefloor here, idiot."

Tendrils of slime weave through her veins as she feels his gaze slide slowly up and down her body, stopping at every inappropriate place. "You don't need a dancefloor for the horizontal mambo," Nottingham leers, bourbon-laced breath washing against her skin.

Regina rolls her eyes and finally turns her head to glare at him. "First of all, you're disgusting. Second of all, your pickup lines are terrible. And third of all, you have five seconds to get away from me before I turn you into a toad."

Her threats evidently fall on deaf ears because all Nottingham does is smile. "But how can I leave a pretty lady like yourself all alone? Since Locksley apparently didn't feel like taking you out-"

"Robin is in the bathroom," Regina interrupts. "And if you were smart, you'd be long gone before he gets back."

"If _you_ were smart, you'd leave that shit stain for a real man. Someone who can show you a good time," Nottingham says lecherously. He reaches out a hand and runs a finger over Regina's bare shoulder, raising goosebumps on her skin as she fights back the urge to retch. "Someone who can make you feel good," Nottingham continues, moving his hand to touch her hair, but before he can make contact with her dark locks, a lion tattooed-arm grabs his wrist in a vicegrip.

"I don't believe you were given permission to touch," Robin seethes, yanking Nottingham's arm away from Regina with enough force to pull him off the barstool.

"Locksley," Nottingham states with poorly concealed disdain as he straightens his shirt. "I didn't realize I needed _your_ permission to talk to the queen."

"You don't need mine, you need hers, and apparently, you don't know how to take no for an answer," Robin snaps, stepping in between them.

"Who says no was the answer I got?" Nottingham challenges, sending Regina another lustful once-over. "Everyone knows your little girlfriend's never been afraid of having more than one man between her legs."

Robin goes to lunge for the sheriff, but Regina throws an arm in front of his chest to stop him. "Robin, relax," she says. "He's not worth it."

"Listen to the queen, mate," Nottingham advises smugly. "We don't want a repeat of the last time we got into a fight and a woman was involved."

Rage fills Robin's face so quickly Regina has no time to react before he's pushing her aside and tackling Nottingham to the floor, knocking several people into each other and spilling drinks everywhere. "Robin!" Regina shouts in a vain attempt to stop his assault on his nemesis. Robin lands a punch on Nottingham's nose with a sickening crunch and blood quickly covers his face as he struggles to retaliate. The crowd surrounding them gasps while Regina looks around frantically for a bouncer, the bartender, anyone to break this up. Robin goes for another hit, but Nottingham grabs his fist and yanks Robin's arm to the side, capitalizing on the change in momentum to flip them over, smacking Robin's back and head into the floor hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs.

Regina's hand flies to her mouth as she watches Nottingham land his own cruel punch to Robin's teeth, knocking several loose and coating Robin's chin in a steady stream of blood. Nottingham punches again, and again, and again, until Robin's face is so bloody Regina can barely recognize it. Somehow, he finds the strength to flip them over again, and then his fist is the one making pulp out of Nottingham's face, and Regina yells his name again, helpless and desperate to make it stop. Her heart is pounding, hands shaking, eyes wild because someone has to stop this, why isn't anyone stopping this, why are they all just _standing_ there-

"Enough!" a familiar voice shouts and suddenly Will is there, pushing his way through the crowd and yanking Robin off Nottingham with a strength Regina didn't know he had. "Fuck's sake, mate, knock it off!" he yells, holding Robin back with a forceful hand on his chest.

"He-" Robin starts, pointing angrily at Nottingham groaning on the floor.

"I don't bloody care what he did!" Will snaps. "You want to die? 'Cause I know you been in enough scraps with our honorable sheriff to know he won't stop until he's killed ya."

Robin doesn't answer, his messed up face contorted into a scowl as he continues to glare at Nottingham. He spits a mouthful of blood onto the floor, one or two teeth going along with it.

"Alright, people, move along, nothing to see here," Will calls to the crowd surrounding them. As they start to dwindle and turn away, Regina steps over Nottingham's semi-unconscious body and marches right up to Will and Robin, smacking her soulmate on the chest, hard.

"Ow! That hurt!" Robin complains, a newfound lisp coloring his speech thanks to his missing teeth.

"You absolute _idiot,_ Robin Locksley!" Regina shouts, smacking him again, uncaring for the moment that he most likely has a concussion and several broken bones. "That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen you do!"

"You clearly haven't seen several _other_ stupid things he's done, then," Will mumbles to himself.

Regina gives him a deadly glare and Will quickly excuses himself, muttering something about making sure Nottingham gets escorted from the bar. " _Why_ did you do that?" Regina demands, hands going to her hips. "I told you to drop it! Were you even listening to me?"

"He-"

"I don't care what he said!" Regina interrupts. "I don't need you to defend my honor, Robin, and I certainly don't need you committing assault and battery to do so."

"That's not what this was about," Robin grumbles, flexing his right hand to stretch out his bloody- and probably broken- knuckles.

"Oh, it wasn't, was it? Then please, enlighten me. Could you just not stand to see another man talking to me?"

"No," Robin denies, eyes narrowing at her admittedly thin accusation.

"Were you mad because he touched something that belongs to you?" Regina challenges, even though she knows that's not it, and it's unfair to accuse Robin of treating her like a possession, because he doesn't, and he didn't, but something had to have set him off.

"No," Robin snaps, scowl deepening.

"Then please, tell me what incited you to break another man's nose because I am at a loss," Regina orders, crossing her arms.

Robin rolls his eyes at her dramatics, but apparently that action is painful and he winces. Good. He should suffer for his stupidity. He blows out a breath and shakes his head, moving to step past her. "I am not having this conversation right now," he mumbles, heading toward the bathroom.

Regina scoffs, shocked that he would blatantly refuse to cooperate, and spins on her heel, following him to the men's room. "Excuse me?" she calls indignantly, grabbing his arm just before he opens the door to the restroom.

"Regina," he sighs, all the fight having left him. "Please. Not now."

"Yes, now," Regina insists, catching the bathroom door and shutting it behind them. It's a single, no stalls, no other people, just them and privacy, which should hopefully coax an answer out of him. "Robin, tell me, please-"

"He threatened you," Robin interrupts, gripping the edge of the sink until his knuckles turn white.

Regina blinks, brow furrowing. "No, he didn't-"

"Yes, he did," Robin says, turning to face her. "You didn't know it, but he did. And I… I couldn't just _let_ him…" He trails off with a shake of his head, turning the tap on and gathering water in his hands to splash on his bloody face. The sink turns pink as he cleans himself and Regina winces when she finally sees the state of his mouth and nose. Puffy, bruised, split open. She may be mad at him, but she can't stand to see him in pain, so with a wave of her hand, purple smoke swirls around Robin's face, healing his broken skin and bones.

Robin blinks and then presses his fingers all over his face and runs his tongue along his fixed teeth. "Thanks," he mutters, twisting off the tap.

Regina looks at the floor, trying to remember the conversation from only minutes before. There were Nottingham's gross comments, her repeated attempts to make him leave, Robin showing up, them almost fighting, her telling him not to fight, Nottingham crowing that they don't want a repeat-

"Robin," Regina says quietly, stepping closer to him, laying a hand on his arm. "What happened the last time you and Nottingham fought over a woman?"

Robin's shoulders deflate as he exhales, his entire body sagging with the weight of whatever memory has just been conjured up. "It was a long time ago," he whispers, avoiding her gaze.

Regina presses herself against him gingerly, running her fingers up and down his spine. "Tell me," she murmurs, settling her hand on top of his on the sink.

Robin swallows and nods, pressing his nose into her hair to breathe her in. "I had a sister," he starts, turning over his hand so their palms touch. "Sarah. She was a year or two younger than me. Beautiful, and kind, and brilliant. Me and my brothers, we always used to joke that she was the only one to get the good Locksley traits."

Regina smiles against his shoulder, giving him a one-armed squeeze.

"Every man in our village wanted Sarah's hand," Robin continues. "Including Nottingham, but he was called Christopher back then. Sarah was never interested in any suitors, though, and most of them backed off. But Nottingham…"

"Can't take no for an answer," Regina supplies quietly, understanding now why Robin was so quick to defend her earlier.

Robin sighs. "He never could. So even after Sarah told him no, he kept pursuing, and pursuing, until one day she told me she was actually frightened of him, of what he might do if she turned him down one more time. And being the brash young man that I was, I figured I would take care of it the next time he came around. So when he called on her next, I showed up and tensions… escalated quickly. We got in a fight, swords and all. I somehow managed to get the upper hand and told him to leave and never come back. But before I could do anything, he took his sword and threw it. Right at Sarah."

Regina gasps, eyes wide. "He killed her?" she whispers.

Robin nods, swallowing thickly. "Hit her right in the stomach. Because if he couldn't have her…"

"No one could," Regina breathes, stunned by this part of his life she had never known before. "Robin… I'm so sorry. That's horrible."

Robin nods again, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "When Nottingham brought it up tonight, I took it as a direct threat against you. That he meant he was going to…" Robin shakes his head and pulls her in for a full embrace, both arms tight around her, pressing a long kiss to her hair.

He's practically shaking as he holds her and Regina realizes he wasn't jealous or angry when he lunged at Nottingham. He was scared. Terrified that she might be harmed, that he might lose her like he did Sarah. Regina exhales slowly against his shoulder, running her hands up and down his back, ghosting her fingers over the strain in his muscles. "It's alright," she murmurs. "I'm here, I'm fine, he didn't hurt me."

"I know," Robin says, nose pressed against her forehead. "I'm sorry I upset you. But I'm not sorry I punched him."

Regina breathes out a laugh, pulling back so she can see his face. "I think you did a little more than punch him," she reminds him. "His face looked like a cow's intestines."

"Good," Robin mutters, more to himself than to her, but he smiles down at her anyway.

Regina smiles back at him and brings a thumb up to wipe away a streak of blood still coating his cheek. "You're a mess," she sighs, looking down at his shirt, now definitely ruined thanks to all the blood stains. Her wine stain is still on there somewhere, though it's probably hidden by all the new pink and red splotches. "How about we go home?" Regina suggests, smiling at him a tad mischievously. "We can take a shower, get ourselves cleaned up… I can look you over, make sure there aren't any other wounds that need healing."

Robin smirks. "Well, when you put it like that… he did do quite a number on me. I might need a very thorough inspection."

Regina runs a finger down the buttons of his shirt. "Of course," she rasps, ducking in to press a sucking kiss to the side of his neck.

Robin slides his hands down to her hips, squeezing once and groaning, apparently reminding himself that she is bare beneath her dress. "I suggest you take us home before I bend you over this sink and make you scream so loud the whole bar hears," he husks into her ear, skirting his fingers under the hem of her dress.

Wetness immediately pools between Regina's thighs as she swallows thickly. She pulls his head down to hers for a tongue-filled kiss, clutching her fingers in his hair as he gropes and fondles her ass. She separates from him just enough to flick her wrist and transport them home in a puff of purple smoke, eager to enjoy a night with each other, and completely unaware that in the shadows lurks something that threatens to burn their happiness to the ground.

* * *

Monday comes around, and with it, the usual forkload of meetings, paperwork, and phone calls. "Good morning, Marie," she sighs as she passes her secretary, a bit breathless from her scurry up the stairs. "Sorry I'm late. Roland did not want to get out of bed."

"No problem, Mayor Mills," Marie says, always so chipper no matter the time of day. "Your schedule's updated for today, and I sorted through your phone messages. Just the important ones are left. Also, public works called and asked to move their meeting with you to tomorrow. I told them I'd check with you and call back."

"Public works," Regina repeats absently, digging through her purse to find her office keys. "What's that meeting about again?"

"They need funding to fill in all the potholes on Main Street," Marie answers, reading off her computer screen. "And… they have a note here requesting that no more magical battles take place on public property since they're tired of cleaning up afterwards."

"Oh yes, please remind me to ask the newest villain in town to confine their attacks to privately owned businesses and residences only from here on out," Regina says, rolling her eyes. She finally finds her keys at the bottom of her purse and unlocks her office. "You can tell public works they can either meet with me today, or wait until the next city council meeting to propose an addendum to the budget."

"Yes, Mayor Mills- oh! I almost forgot. This is for you," Marie says, reaching across her desk and holding out a cup of coffee.

Regina walks back over from her office door, confused. "You got me coffee?" she asks, taking the cup regardless.

"No, it was sitting on my desk when I got here with a sticky note with your name on it. I do believe Mr. Locksley paid us a visit before he went to work."

Regina hides her smile behind the coffee cup as she takes a sip. It's not as hot as it could be, but it still hits her tongue with a bittersweetness that both wakes and calms her. He's too good to her.

"Should I call the Parks office and send your regards?" Marie asks, failing to conceal her teasing smirk.

"No, you can call public works and tell them to kiss my ass," Regina replies, heading back toward her office. "But make it more politically correct than that."

"Yes, Mayor Mills," Marie laughs as Regina shuts her door. She strides over to her desk and sets her bag down, keeping her coffee in hand as she fishes around for her cell phone. She doesn't need Marie to send her regards to the Parks office. She can do that all on her own.

* * *

 _Are you hoping to earn a lasagna for dinner?_

Robin's phone vibrates on his desk and he furrows his brow when he reads Regina's message.

 _I'm always hoping to earn a lasagna,_ he sends back. _What can I do to win such a prize?_

 _You're off to a pretty good start already this morning,_ is her reply, and Robin scratches his head. He hasn't seen Regina yet today since he left before she was even awake- the Parks office opens before the Mayor's does- so he's at a bit of a loss over what he could have done to garner his favorite dinner. He didn't pack her lunch, or make her breakfast, and he's positive he didn't start the laundry because there's no way he's ever touching that demon washing machine again.

 _This morning? What have I done this morning?_

It takes her a few minutes to respond and then: _My coffee. I really needed it thank you_

Robin stares at his phone, mouth twisted to the side as he tries to remember. He didn't get her coffee this morning, did he? He certainly has in the past, whenever he deigns to stop by Granny's before work, but he didn't swing by there today because he needed to get to the office right away to deal with all the trees down from last night's thunderstorm. And he didn't have time after getting to the office because he had to dispatch his men to different parts around town to clear away the storm debris. So no, he didn't get her coffee this morning, which means he's even more confused than before.

 _I didn't get you-_

His typing is cut off by the ringing of the office phone. He sets his own phone down, resigned to finish the conversation later, and answers the call. "Storybrooke Office of Parks and Recreation, this is Robin," he says, clicking the button on the top of his cell phone to turn the screen off.

"Hey, Robin, it's Emma. I need you to do me a favor."

"Of course, what can I do for the honorable sheriff?" he asks, glancing around at the empty office suite. Days after thunderstorms are always busy, so hopefully Emma's request doesn't require more than one person.

"I need you to pull the security footage from one of the rental cabins in the north woods," Emma says. "We got a call that it was broken into."

"Broken into?" Robin echoes, typing in his password on his desktop computer, a device he is still trying to figure out. "When? Why wasn't I told about this?"

"Last night, and I'm telling you now."

"Someone broke in during that hurricane?" Robin asks doubtfully. He manages to bring up the right screen, but stumbles a bit in trying to select the right box to access the security cameras from the city-owned forest properties. "Did they take anything?"

"I don't know, I'm heading out there in a minute to check it out. It was probably just someone trying to get out of the rain, but better safe than sorry," Emma answers. "Do you want to meet me out there? It's Cabin 4. I should be there in, like, ten minutes."

"Sure," Robin agrees, finally locating the right screen and frowning when it displays nothing but black fuzziness. "Alright, I think I brought up the security camera feed, but it's just a blank screen."

"Are you sure you're on the right screen?" Emma asks, her smile evident in her tone.

Robin double checks where he's clicked and nods to himself. "Yeah, I'm sure. There's nothing, though."

"Fuck, the storm must have disrupted the connection," Emma groans. She sighs, frustrated. "Alright, well, let's hope we can find something at the cabin. Meet me in ten?"

"Yep, I'll be there." They say their goodbyes and hang up, and Robin clicks out of the blank security feed. He scribbles a note and sticks it on John's desk, letting him know where he's gone, and then grabs his bag and his phone and heads out of the office, his interrupted conversation with Regina forgotten.

* * *

Twenty minutes into checking her email, Regina's head starts to ache with a dull throb just behind her eye. She pinches the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly while wishing that she had gotten more sleep last night. The thunderstorm that had shook the town was a monster, and between a crying baby, a frightened Roland, and her own jitters at the claps of thunder, she had been awake for most of the night, which does not bode well for the state of her Monday.

She lowers the brightness on her computer screen and reaches into her desk drawer for two aspirin, swallowing them down with the rest of the coffee Robin had brought her. He hasn't responded to her text, but he's probably very busy today with storm clean-up. It's a wonder that he even had time to fetch her coffee in the first place.

With her last email sent, Regina stands to throw her coffee cup away, only to be struck by a sudden wave of dizziness. She closes her eyes and grips the edge of her desk to steady herself. Oh fuck, this isn't just a headache. This is going to be a migraine, and if the rolling of her stomach is any sign, it's going to be a bad one.

She swallows down the bile at the back of her throat and takes a shaky step toward the trash can, but doesn't get very far before a pain rips up her spine, making her stagger back and knock her hip into the corner of her desk. Regina yelps in surprise and pain, accidentally dropping the coffee cup onto the floor, splattering little drops of coffee across the tile. She can't pay attention to the mess though because the pain shoots up her back and pours into her head, blocking out every sense until the only thing she can register is a sharp throbbing that spikes down to her chest, wrapping her heart in a vice grip.

This isn't a migraine. This is… it's… well, she doesn't know what it is because all she knows is that she is in excruciating pain and that she has to clench her teeth together to stop from crying out at the stabbing in her head and chest. She has to call Marie, she needs to get help-

But when she reaches for her phone, her knees buckle and then give out, sending her to the floor with another consuming wave of dizziness and nausea. Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

"Marie," Regina tries to shout, but it comes out like a strangled whisper. Her lungs constrict and she gasps to breathe. Is she dying? Is she having a heart attack? She wants to scream, but she can't, she doesn't have the breath.

She opens her mouth again to call for Marie, then the pain in her spine flares up again, so intensely that she falls forward on her hands, her palms smacking against the tile. It spreads then, not just to her head and chest but throughout her whole body, as if every nerve is being stabbed with a knife. Dots dance across her vision, her elbows shake and then give out, and her head meets the floor with a thud. There's movement out of the corner of her eye, and then blackness takes over.

* * *

"Yeah, I'm not seeing anything, are you?" Emma asks as she rounds the rear corner of the cabin.

Robin shakes his head, eyeing the wooden beams of the exterior. "No signs of a break in anywhere, and the inside is undisturbed," he says, running a hand along the sill of the kitchen window. "I'd say your tipper was mistaken. Unless we're dealing with ghost burglars."

"Or the Prince of Thieves," Emma counters with a grin. "How do I know _you_ weren't the one to break in and not leave a trace? That is your _modus operandi,_ after all."

"Alright, I confess," Robin plays along as they make their way back to the porch. "In between soothing a crying baby and trying to get Roland back to sleep, I managed to sneak out of the house in the middle of a thunderstorm and break into this specific cabin, all without Regina noticing."

Emma laughs, fishing her phone out of her pocket. "Maybe I should call her. Double check that alibi." She pushes some buttons and then brings the phone to her ear. "Dad? It's me. We didn't find anything…"

Speaking of Regina, Robin reaches into his own pocket and pulls out his cell, unlocking it to find his interrupted conversation with her from earlier. He finishes his message ( _I didn't get you coffee this morning_ ) and presses send, answering a quick question from John before tucking his phone back into his pocket just as Emma finishes up with David.

"Dad said since we didn't find anything, we should just file a report about the tip and then drop it," she says. "If something else comes up, we can investigate more, but at this point, there's no reason to waste our time."

Robin nods. "Okay. Well, since we're out here, would you mind helping me check the security camera? I'm not exactly… handy with stuff like that."

Emma chuckles at his sheepishness. "Sure, no problem. I think it's hooked up somewhere over here." She walks over to the corner of the porch and pulls open a gray panel on the wall, revealing a bunch of wires and other technological things that confuse Robin to no end. He peers over Emma's shoulder with a furrowed brow, and is about to ask what she thinks is the matter when his phone vibrates.

He pulls it back out, expecting a response from either Regina or John, and is quite confused to find neither. Instead, he has a message that reads: _The number you are trying to reach is out of service._

John probably forgot to pay his phone bill again, Robin thinks with a sigh, bringing up his contacts to call the office phone instead, but freezing when a text from John pops up on the top bar.

If John is texting him, then his number can't be out of service.

So then that would mean…

Robin is dialing Regina's number in the next second. There's no reason her phone shouldn't be working. Her bill is obviously paid, because his is, and they're on the same one. So unless something got messed up by mistake, her phone should be operating just fine. He brings his phone to his ear and waits as the dial tone rings once, twice-

 _I'm sorry. The number you are trying to reach is out of service. Please hang up and try again._

Robin swallows, because it doesn't make sense, and there is suddenly a pit of unease in his stomach.

"Hmm… oh, there it is," Emma says, plugging a wire into a hole. "That should do it." She closes the gray panel and turns back to Robin. "I think I fixed it. Robin?"

"Huh?" he asks, looking up from his phone.

"A wire was loose," Emma explains. "The camera should be working again." She tilts her head. "You okay? You look upset."

"Would you mind calling Regina for a second?" Robin asks. "I'm keep getting a message saying her phone is out of service."

"Yeah, sure," Emma agrees, pulling hers back out. She dials, waits, and then frowns as she listens to the same automated message Robin had gotten. "Huh. Why don't you call the office? A cell tower might have gone out last night. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Yeah… probably," Robin mutters, mostly to himself. He dials the number for the mayor's office and after two rings, Marie picks up.

"Mayor Mills' office, how can I help you?"

"Hey, Marie, it's Robin," he says. "Is Regina there?"

"She is… but it looks like she's on the phone right now. I can put you on hold, if you want, and send her an email so she knows you're waiting."

"No, no, that's okay. I just wanted to make sure she was alright," Robin explains. "I kept getting an error message when I tried to call her cell."

"Oh, that's probably the spotty service we have in this building," Marie says. "I drop calls on my cell all the time when I'm here. Should I have Mayor Mills call you back when she's free?"

"That would be great," Robin sighs, hating to take time out of her day like that, but needing some reassurance for his own sake. "Whenever she has a second is fine."

"Okay, I'll pass the message along."

"Thanks, Marie."

Robin hangs up and pockets his phone, nodding when Emma asks if everything is alright, despite feeling an inkling at the bottom of his spine that something is actually very wrong.

* * *

Consciousness returns slowly and painfully, every muscle, bone, and nerve aching as Regina comes to. Her eyelids feel heavy, like boulders are pressing down on each of them. She's laying down, she can tell that at least, a cold surface pressing against her cheek and right side. She groans and forces her eyes open, blinking repeatedly as her vision spins, blurs, and then finally clears.

She's not in her office anymore.

A wooden wall spans her field of vision, bare and dark, little light filling whatever room she's in. The floor that she's laying on is wooden as well, cold and unyielding beneath her.

What the hell happened?

She tries to move her arms to sit up, but they won't budge. She tries again and that's when she realizes- her wrists are tied together behind her back. Dread and fear settle in her stomach, heart rate picking up as she twists and turns her arms, skin chafing against the several layers of rope tied tightly around her wrists and forearms. Her pulse pounds in her ears as she tries to magick the ropes away, but no purple smoke appears, no knots are loosened, and the panic in her chest increases tenfold as her magic does not come.

Regina swallows thickly, throat dry, tongue heavy, as she awkwardly pushes herself up into a sitting position, head spinning wildly. She closes her eyes for a few seconds and waits for the dizziness to pass. When she opens them, she looks around, staring dumbly at the bare wooden walls surrounding her. There are no windows, no furniture, the sole source of light coming from the fluorescent on the ceiling. Where the hell is she?

She looks down at herself then. Her blazer and shoes are gone, but her blouse and skirt are still on. Wrinkled and slightly askew, but still on.

"Oh God," she groans as a hard wave of nausea washes over her, her vision swirling and blurring again. Something was in her coffee, and whatever is was, packed a powerful punch. Her stomach pitches and rolls, and just when she thinks she's actually going to vomit, the sound of a door opening behind her snaps her to attention, her instincts forcing the nausea to cease.

"Well, well, looks like sleeping beauty has finally woken up."

Regina's stomach drops at the sound of the voice, her heartbeat picking back up as she twists around to look at her captor. "Nottingham," she hisses, glaring at the man as he saunters across the room.

"Your majesty," he says with a smarmy grin, crouching down in front of her. "Did you have a nice nap?"

"Untie me," Regina snaps, struggling against her bonds.

"Mm, no. I don't think so." He reaches out and grabs her chin, pulling her head toward him. "Not when you look so lovely all tied up for me."

Regina resists the urge to shiver at his slimy tone and shakes her chin free, giving him her best evil queen stare. "If you don't let me go, right now, I'll-"

"You'll what? Continue to sit there and struggle?" Nottingham goads, smiling knowingly. "You can't get free. Your magic's gone. No easy escape for you, Madam Mayor."

Regina narrows her eyes. "What did you put in my coffee?"

"A little potion I found," he answers dismissively. "Something that renders a magic wielder completely useless."

 _Mortals' Blood_ , Regina thinks, or perhaps something with squid ink. Either way, her magic won't be returning for a while. "And where did an idiot such as yourself find something like that?"

"That old mansion out in the woods," Nottingham answers. "There are rooms filled with useful things. Like the potion in your coffee, and the spell that made this room soundproof."

Regina's stomach sinks further as she curses herself silently. Clearing out the Sorcerer's Mansion had been on her to-do list for months and she kept putting it off. Now it seems she's paying for it. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't at least a little bit frightened, but she's the queen, damnit, she doesn't show fear. Instead, she tilts her head and rolls her eyes. "Typical. A lowlife like you _would_ have to steal magic to get your dirty work done. Can't do anything for yoursel-"

He slaps her across the face. Hard. Her eyes cross for a moment before she regains her bearings, her cheek burning and tingling as a red handprint begins to form on her skin.

"And a lowlife like you _would_ hit a woman for talking back," Regina baits, murder in her eyes.

Nottingham's face twists into a snarl as his hand shoots out and grabs her around the neck, fingers squeezing just enough that she has to gasp for breath. He leans in close, only an inch or so between his face and hers. "By the time I'm through with you, you'll have suffered so much more than a just simple smack," he growls, clenching his fingers around her neck for several long moments before letting her go with a shove. He stands and heads for the door, ignoring Regina's shuddering breaths as she tries to refill her lungs. He yanks open the door, but turns back for a second. "Don't go anywhere," he chuckles sadistically. "We're just getting started."

Regina flinches as the door slams shut and closes her eyes when she hears it lock.

Well, fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

Using prompts 2 (Leave me alone) and 35 (You're going to make yourself sick)

* * *

It feels silly to worry. It's just another workday, another day where Regina is probably busy running this town, too busy to ease his fretting with a phone call. Aside from her phone being out of service, there is nothing at all to signal that something is wrong.

And yet, Robin cannot help but think that there is.

He had waited until noon. Lunch time. Waited to see if she would call when she got a spare moment or when she finally let herself eat halfway through the day. But the twelve o'clock hour had come and gone without a peep from her and now it's nearing one thirty and Robin just can't take it anymore. He needs to know she is okay, even if it makes him seem ridiculous or overprotective. There is a knot in his stomach that just won't untangle and it'll only get bigger until he hears her voice telling him she's fine.

So that's why he's climbing the stairs of city hall, taking two at a time, all the while telling himself that everything is okay.

Marie greets him with her usual cheeriness (it amazes him sometimes that Regina elects to keep such a… peppy secretary). "Hi, Robin, how are you?"

"Fine, thanks," he says even though he feels very far from fine. "Is Regina in?"

"Yes, is she expecting you? Lunch date?" Marie asks, picking up the phone receiver.

"No, actually, she's not expecting me, but I haven't heard from her since I called this morning and… well, I'd just like to see her, if she's free please."

"Sure, not a problem. She doesn't have a meeting until 2 today," Marie explains, her smile dipping into a frown the longer she holds the phone to her ear. "Huh. She didn't pick up. Maybe she's in the middle of something. Let me go check."

Robin should wait by Marie's desk. He knows that. There's no reason for him to barge his way into Regina's day. No reason at all. But he has always had an overprotective streak, so he follows Marie down the hallway to Regina's door.

"Mayor Mills?" Marie calls as she knocks on the glass. "Mr. Locksley is here to see you."

Silence is the response. A few seconds pass, dread working its way up Robin's spine, then Marie knocks again. "Mayor Mills? Are you in there?"

Still no answer.

"She should be in there," Marie murmurs. "I haven't seen her leave all day."

One more second of silence is all it takes for Robin's worry to get the better of him and he knocks on the door himself. "Regina?" he says, doing his best to keep the tension out of his voice. "It's me. Are you alright?"

The silence he gets in response is deafening. "You're sure she's in there?" he asks Marie, just slightly accusatory.

Marie nods. "She hasn't come out since she arrived this morning. She didn't have any meetings or appointments anywhere."

Robin grits his teeth to quell his panicked frustration. He just needs to _see_ her, damnit. Then he'll know she's alright. He tries the doorknob only to find it locked which is only more concerning. Regina never locks her office door (their occasional lunchtime rendez-vous being the sole exception). Undeterred, Robin reaches into his pocket and pulls out two pins, crouching down in front of the lock.

"What are you doing?" Marie asked incredulously. "You can't _pick_ the _mayor's_ lock."

"Then call the sheriff on me," Robin mutters as he fiddles with the pins, a bit clumsy in his haste. Something is wrong. He _knows_ it now, more than just a feeling. He needs to see Regina. Now.

The tumblers in the lock click open and Robin turns the knob, standing quickly as he pushes open the door. "Regina? Regina, are you-" He stops mid-sentence, eyes flitting frantically around the room, and seeing no sign of Regina, aside from her laptop on her desk and a spilled coffee cup on the floor. He spins around on Marie who stands hesitantly in the doorway.

"I thought you said she hasn't left her office," he accuses, blood pressure rising by the second.

"She… she hasn't," Marie swears, shaking her head. "I've been at my desk all day, and she hasn't left."

Robin turns back around and crosses the room to Regina's desk. Her purse is still in the bottom drawer, her papers and pens still scattered across the top, her cell phone-

Robin swallows thickly as he crouches down by the chair, hands shaking as he lifts the shattered remains of what had been Regina's cell phone. The screen, the battery, the frame, all smashed and twisted beyond repair. A heavy ball of lead drops into Robin's stomach and stays there.

He stands and holds the destroyed phone up for Marie to see.

Her eyes widen. "Is that-"

Robin nods, pulse pounding loudly in his ears. "Call Emma."

* * *

Regina doesn't know how much time has passed since she woke up, but hours seems like a good estimate. There's no clock anywhere, and no windows, so she can't really judge the passage of time, but her arms and hands have gone completely numb by now, so it's definitely been a good bit since Nottingham tied her up.

Ugh, Nottingham. Just the thought of the slimeball has her shuddering. In normal circumstances, she wouldn't be afraid of him, but now without her magic, with no idea where she is or what he wants, she feels incredibly vulnerable to him. And that's a feeling she had hoped to leave behind in her first marriage.

She doesn't know what he plans to get out of this, taking her hostage and everything, but surely he can't expect his little stunt to go unnoticed. Robin and Henry will be concerned when she's not home for dinner, and Marie will probably go looking for her when she hasn't emerged for her two o'clock meeting. Nottingham might not be as stupid as she thought, but he still hasn't thought of everything. They'll be looking for her soon enough.

Her cheek still stings a bit from where he struck her. Her throat is less sore from the choking, but her lungs scream just a little too much if she takes a too big breath. Nothing she can't handle. Certainly nothing she hasn't experienced before-

The door swings open just then and Nottingham comes swaggering back into the room, a pleased little grin on his face. "Miss me?" he asks, crouching down in front of her.

"As much as I miss a piece of gum stuck to my shoe," Regina deadpans, rolling her eyes in disgust.

"Mm, cheeky as ever I see," Nottingham mocks, dropping his smile in favor of a glare. "Let's see if we can do something about that…" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a switchblade, flipping open the knife with practiced ease.

Regina's heart leaps into her throat, but she forces her detached demeanor to remain intact. "Oh, are you finally going to cut these insipid ropes and let me go? How kind of you, really."

Nottingham ignores her as he looks her up and down, tapping the handle of the blade in thought. "Hmm, let's see… which part of you would be most effective? Where to start, where to start…"

Regina scrunches herself up slightly, that slimy feeling returning as he appraises her like a piece of meat.

"Hmm… ah, yes, I do believe right here…" He reaches out his free hand, toward the buttons on her shirt, and Regina sees red, instinct taking over as she shoots out a leg to kick him, nearly making contact with his stomach but he catches her ankle at the last second.

His grip tightens as he scowls at her, leaning in closer. "Don't make me tie your feet, bitch. Keeping your legs together might be a challenge for you, but try your best."

"Get your hands off me," Regina seethes, pulling her ankle free from his grasp. "Touch me again and I'll-"

"You won't do anything if you want to live," Nottingham threatens. "One wrong move, and this knife will slip into a very important artery."

"Do it then," Regina challenges. "Go ahead and kill me. That's what you want, isn't it? For me to die?"

Nottingham chuckles lowly. "Oh no, you majesty, I don't want to kill you." He grabs her jaw, fingers digging into her skin. "I just want to watch you bleed." At that, he pulls open the top button on her blouse, exposing her collarbone and the few inches of skin below it.

Regina twists in his grasp, unable to do much but struggle. "Leave me alone **.** I swear to god-"

She doesn't get to finish. Her voice dies in her throat as the knife digs into the skin of her chest, a sharp, searing pain that takes her breath away. She expects him to go deeper, to drive the knife through muscle and bone, but he stops at the skin, shallow enough to hurt (and oh god, does it hurt, her nerves are on _fire)_ but not enough to kill her.

Nottingham chuckles at her struggle to keep from screaming, her teeth clamped so tightly against her bottom lip that she fears she will make herself bleed there too. "You can scream if you want to," he whispers into her ear as he draws the knife down, down, down her skin until pulling it away. "No one's going to hear you anyway."

The knife bites into flesh again, sending the same shock of biting pain through her body as it slices a path across her chest. She won't scream, though. She _will not_ scream. She will not give him that satisfaction.

He draws the knife through her skin one more time and then he pushes her back, her head knocking hard against the wall behind her. She's breathing heavily, the sharpness of the cuts morphing into a burning sting that radiates throughout her entire body. Her eyes are squeezed shut as she tries to regain her bearings, white dots bursting behind her eyelids.

Then there's a soft "click" and Regina opens her eyes just in time to see Nottingham tucking a phone into his pocket, looking much too pleased with himself. He smirks at her and runs a finger down her chest, ghosting over the cuts. "Has anyone ever told you red is a good color on you?"

"Go to hell," Regina grits out through clenched teeth, shaking his hand off.

"Oh, I'm sure I will," Nottingham says as he stands. "But not until I'm through with you." He smacks her across the face again, and white spots burst in Regina's eyes once more. "See you in a little while," he promises and heads for the door.

Regina waits until it's shut and locked to look down at herself, trying to make out what he cut into her chest. It takes a moment, but when she deciphers what he's written, she has to force herself not to vomit.

* * *

Robin is pacing. Hurriedly, frantically. Back and forth across the floor of the sheriff's station, mind whirling as fear grips his chest.

They don't know where Regina is. She is nowhere to be found and they have looked _everywhere._ As soon as Marie called Emma, the search was on. Between Robin, Emma, and David, they covered nearly all of Storybrooke in a few hours, and there was not a single sign of Regina. It's after four o'clock now, and he hasn't heard from her since this morning. Hasn't seen her since this morning. Hasn't touched her since this morning, and the panic he's been trying to manage all afternoon is starting to reach its boiling point.

Robin spins around to continue his pacing path when Emma stands from her desk.

"You need to stop that," she says firmly, hands on her hips. "Pacing and worrying is not going to find Regina."

"Then what do you propose I do?" Robin argues, stopping in front of her desk. "We've looked everywhere and have yet to find her. We haven't heard anything. No one has seen her or knows where she could be. We have no leads on who is behind this. I have to keep moving or else I'll go mad."

"Okay, but remember to breathe," Emma concedes. "You're going to make yourself sick with worry and then you'll be no help to any of us, least of all Regina."

Robin stops pacing with a sigh, sinking down into David's vacant chair and resting his face in his hands. "I can't help it," he mutters. "I just… I need to find her. What if she's hurt? What if… " He shakes his head, unable to bare the thought.

"Regina is going to be fine," Emma assures him. "She's tough, you know that. Whatever's going on, she'll be fine. And we'll find her. I promise."

Robin nods dismally as he stares out the window. There are few places left to search, and the more time passes, the smaller their chances are of finding her unscathed. Someone did something to her, forced her to go somewhere against her will. Their earlier conversation about coffee makes sense now, thanks to Marie. Someone had left Regina coffee before Marie arrived that morning, and they both just assumed it was from Robin since he has been known to pick up a cup for her before work. That coffee contained some powerful magic. Emma had waved her hand over the bit of splatter on the floor and grimaced immediately. Apparently whatever magic was in there was particularly "nasty." She didn't know exactly what it was, but she knew it was not good.

Their list of suspects is… long, to say the least. Who knows the number of people who want to exact revenge on the former evil queen? Emma's initial sweep of the office had turned up no clues, aside from the phone and the coffee, leaving them at a puzzling dead end. With every minute that passes, Robin's frustration and worry multiple exponentially.

"Have you heard anything from David?" he asks, not allowing himself to hope.

"No, he hasn't called me yet," Emma answers, reaching for her phone. "Has he called you?"

Robin shakes his head and pulls out his phone, glancing at the screen and looking away before doing a double take. There's a notification on his lock screen, but the number is blocked. Frowning, Robin unlocks his phone and opens his messages. He taps on the one from the blocked number and nearly throws up at the picture that opens.

It's Regina, eyes closed, sitting against a wall, a pained expression on her face. Her arms are behind her back and her shirt slightly unbuttoned.

What makes all the color drain from Robin's face, however, is the bloody letter N carved into her chest.


End file.
